A clear, deliberate knock from inside.
He freezes.
Knock. Knock.
His hands turn cold. He isn't imagining it. Someone—or something—is inside. Maybe… it's best if he checks it himself. His eyes scan the room, searching for something to break the lock. A hammer, a rod—anything. After a minute of searching, he finds a thick wooden plank in the kitchen. It's not ideal, but it will have to do. He returns to the locked door, gripping the wood tightly. Taking a deep breath, he tries to steady his nerves. His heart is racing, his palms sweaty.
With all his strength, he swings.
'Clank'
The lock falls to the floor with a dull thud. Silence thickens around him. His hands tremble as he grips the handle, hesitating before twisting it. The door creaks open, revealing pitch darkness. He turns on his phone's flashlight, its dim beam barely cutting through the dust-filled air.
Rows of shelves emerge, cluttered with strange, ancient objects—artifacts he doesn't recognize. The space feels untouched, yet eerily alive. Then, a sound. Low. Steady. His breath catches as his flashlight lands on the source. A typewriter sits in the center of the room—clean, polished, out of place.
Unlike everything else, it looks new. But what freezes him is the rhythmic clicking of its keys. It's typing. On its own. He steps closer, heart pounding. Pages stack beside it, filled with words he doesn't understand. His fingers reach for one. Click. The typing stops. A suffocating silence fills the room. His eyes lower to the last line typed:
"The End."
He hesitates for a moment. It seems like the typewriter has finished its work. Carefully, he takes the last page and then picks up the rest of the papers stacked beside it. Holding the papers tightly, he slowly steps back. His heart is still beating fast, but he knows he shouldn't stay here any longer.
Moving carefully, he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, not daring to look back. He enters his room, closes the door, and sits on the bed. Holding the papers tightly, he takes a deep breath and starts reading them carefully, trying to understand their contents.
The story goes like this:
In 1939, in the village of Tonu, a poor but peaceful family of six lived, working on others' land. Among them was a 9-year-old girl named Tanaya, who had loving parents, two older sisters, and a 4-year-old brother. Their peaceful life didn't last. At the time, marrying off young daughters was a societal norm, often forced upon families.
Tanaya's parents had to marry off her two older sisters when they were her age. Their husbands—much older men—died soon after, leaving them widowed and outcast. Labeled as "bad luck," they were shunned, forced into isolation, and stripped of a normal life. Not only did Tanaya's sisters suffer, but her parents were also ridiculed for having "unlucky" daughters. The weight of the dowry and societal scorn crushed them, leaving them struggling for food for weeks.
TBC